Strange Duet
by Jenna Cassie Herdz
Summary: A strange duet indeed when the little Giry dancer and the Phantom genius of darkness finally meet face to face.
1. A Way Out

**A/N:** Wlecome to yet another, Phantom fanfic. Now, the pair is Erik and Meg, because I think they would be cute 2gether. Disclaimer: I do not own, Erik aka The Phantom, Christine, Raoul, Meg, Madame Giry, or the story of The Phantom of the Opera

_**Chapter 1: A Way Out**_

Meg gazed down at the mask in her hands, the white porcelain glowing in the candlelight as she heard the mob in the lake.

"Girl!" one of the men called. "Where are you?!"

"In here!" she called back, and she took the mask with her as she ran from out of the room.

"Well, where is he?!" the man snarled down at her.

"I-I do not know," Meg replied, timidly. "He must have disappeared down another tunnel."

"Then we must find him!" one of the policeman called. "Surely there is a tunnel leading outside. We'll search the perimeter. Come men!"

The mob followed the policeman, but Meg searched through the cave from where she stood. If there _was_ another secret passageway, they would probably find him quicker if they went through it. Meg trudged back up the steps and searched every room, the mask never leaving her grasp. She passed a heavy curtain that hung all the way to the floor, but thought nothing of it. She stood in front of the manikin of Christine and stared at it a moment.

He must have cared for her very much to go through all of this trouble just to be with her. Meg wished someone could love her the way the Phantom had loved Christine. Although, she might have done without a lot of the spooky, darkness that he was into.

Looking around she went into the bedroom with the swan bed again. Where _was_ that secret passage?! She rushed out of the room and past the curtain again, but stopped short of passing it. She had felt a draft, a cold breeze from the edge of that curtain. She looked down and noticed shards of broken glass that had made up a mirror at one point then turned fully to the curtain.

"It was in plain sight, wasn't it?" she realized aloud then pulled the curtain away to reveal a dark passageway and a cool breeze grazed her face, whistling in her ears. She turned to see if anyone had stayed, but there was no one in the lair, so she turned back to face the tunnel. Taking a deep breath, she stepped through the threshold and allowed the curtain to drape down behind her.

She slowly made her way down the cold, damp and dark tunnel, her footsteps echoing with little slaps from stepping on puddles of water. She shivered and hugged the mask she still held close to her chest to rubs her arms for warmth. She couldn't see a thing! How would _anyone_ find their way down this passage?! It was absurd!

"He's the Phantom, Meg," she told herself. "Of _course_ he can find his way through a dark tunnel! He's been doing it for years!"

"My whole life, actually."

"Exactly--" She gasped when she realized _he_ was there with her. She turned toward the sound of his voice, but saw nothing. "Where are you?!"

"_I'll_ will ask the questions, Meg," he replied.

"You know my name?" she breathed.

"Of course," he replied, coolly. "You are Madame Giry's daughter, yes?"

"Y-Yes."

"Why did you lead the mob to my home?"

"They-They made me lead them here. There were so many of them. I was afraid they would hurt me to make me cooperate with them."

"And your mother knows you are here?"

"No. She told me to stay above."

"Where has the mob gone?"

"Outside, to look for you around the opera house."

"Why did you not go with them?"

"I thought, if you had disappeared, it would be faster to find you the way you left."

"Why did you follow me?"

Meg opened her mouth to reply, but found herself without an answer. That was a good question. Why _had_ she followed him? She had no reason for being there. She had no reason to follow him. She had led the mob to kill him, so why would she follow him after they went searching for him outside? It made no sense even to her?

"Well?"

Meg jumped when she was jolted from her thoughts by his voice. She had to give him an answer, so she decided to go with the most logical one…

"I-I was curious," she replied, meekly.

"Curious?" he echoed.

"Yes."

"About what?"

"About…you, I suppose."

"You do not know?"

"Monsieur--"

She was cut off when they suddenly heard distant shouting from one end of the tunnel.

"Damn!" he hissed. "They found the exit! This way."

"I-I cannot see! Which way am I to go?"

He let out a growl of agitation and Meg suddenly felt a huge hand wrap around her small wrist and pull her down the tunnel the way she came.

"You say _everyone_ left the cave?" he questioned again.

"Yes," she replied, stumbling behind him. She suddenly found herself back in the dim light of the lair, and in front of her was the Phantom, his back facing her, and still gripping her wrist. He dragged her across the cave, toward the room with the swan bed and he stopped at the small table next to it.

"My mask," he said, realizing it was no longer there. "Where--?" His question was cut short when he turned to Meg, who took an involuntary step back when he turned. In the short time she hadn't seen him without his mask she had forgotten what he had looked like. But now, instead of absolute dread and disgust, it was a small shock that he was not wearing it.

"Give it to me!" he hissed, holding his hand out for his mask when he saw her clutching it. She held it to him and he snatched it from her, placing it on his face. He looked around the room then approached the bed and moved it from the wall. There he revealed yet another passageway.

"Come along," he urged as he climbed in, but Meg stood still and frowned at him in confusion. He looked back at her as she simply stared at him and did not move and became even more irritated.

"Come along!" he growled, hoping to get her moving through rage. When she still did not move he sighed and climbed out to grip her wrist and pull her toward him. "Come on!" He shoved her into the passageway and climbed in after her then pulled the bed back by a handle on the frame.

"This way," he directed, beginning to crawl on his hands and knees. This tunnel was only small enough to crawl through.

"But, it is so dark," she shuddered. "I cannot see a thing!"

"Follow my voice," he urged then heard her beginning to crawl after him.

"Where are we going?" she asked, trying to keep him engaged in a conversation so as not to lose him.

"This tunnel leads to an exit close to your mother's house," he replied. "We must get you home so as not to worry your mother. She will surely send a search party for you if you are gone too long."

"How do you know what my mother will do?"

"I am no simpleton. And besides, I've known your mother for a long time."

"You have?"

"Yes. She brought me here to live when I was very young."

"She never told _me_."

"She did _that_ to protect you. She wouldn't want her daughter fraternizing with The Opera Ghost, I'm sure."

"Why not?"

"Did you not pay attention to anything that has happened tonight?!" he snapped. "Besides, who would wish to associate with a monster like myself?"

"Monster?"

He froze, and when Meg heard him stop crawling she did the same. She was questioning the fact that he was a monster. She had seen his face, seen what he had done, and yet, she questioned his label for himself? Was this girl stupid or blind?!

"You doubt what I am?" he finally asked, still not moving.

"Murderer," she began. "Genius. Insane, perhaps, but I'm not sure you are a monster."

"And what makes you unsure?"

"You _look_ like a man, not a monster."

"But, my face… Surely it is monstrous."

"Your face – it is not even your _whole_ face!" Meg laughed. That sent his temper flaring.

"You think this is a laughing matter?!" he boomed, but she still laughed a bit.

"No, but I cannot understand how you can call yourself a monster when really, you are a man. I would think a monster would be an animal, incapable of feeling _anything_, including love."

He felt his heart clench at that word. Love. He had loved Christine and that had turned out disastrous. She had left him for another, and just the thought of it made him want to retreat into a dark room and sob for hours.

"We should keep moving," he said emotionlessly, needing to change the subject. "Your mother will be worried sick." He began crawling again and Meg started as well when she heard him move.

"Uh…Monsieur?" Meg called.

"Yes?" he replied, exasperated.

"May I--? May I ask…what is your real name?"

"Why?"

"Well, I would prefer calling you by your name instead of 'Monsieur' all the time."

"What makes you think we will be together after I return you home?"

"I am not assuming anything. I would just like to know what your name is so that I may call you by it."

"Erik," he finally replied.

"And you have no last name?" Meg wondered.

"If I do, it has left my memory," he replied.

"May I find a surname for you?"

"If you wish," Erik sighed. He stopped when he nearly fell forward, his hand landing on air in front of him.

"Finally!" he grinned.

"What is it?" Meg asked, stopping when he said that.

"We have reached the gap," he replied, and turned to slide down onto the stone floor a few feet below the small tunnels edge. "We can walk from here. The exit is only a few more meters away."

Meg carefully maneuvered to sit on the edge of the tunnel and Erik held his arms to her.

"Jump," he entreated.

"I still cannot see," she protested.

"I can see you," he assured her. "Just jump. I will catch you."

Meg took a deep breath and slid from the tunnel. She felt a pair of hands at her waist then the arms attached to them wrap around her to help her to the ground. Her hands instinctively landed on the arms of the hands as they uncoiled from around her waist.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice a bit raspy.

"Y-Yes," she nodded. "Thank you." Her face was on fire. Those strong arms under her touch had been wrapped around her waist for a mere moment, but that small moment was enough to make her blush at the thoughts running through her mind.

"Come," Erik's voice cracked, but he cleared his throat before speaking again. "We have no time to lose." He gripped her wrist again and led her down the tunnel.

She stumbled behind him as he took long strides through the darkness, and her mind was reeling. Why was it she had blushed over such a small thing? It couldn't have been embarrassment. Attraction? Possibly, but why? Why was she attracted to him? She didn't even _know_ him, and for years she had feared him as the Opera Ghost, the Phantom of the Opera! What had she gotten herself into?

They suddenly rounded a corner and stopped. She looked around the dark and panicked when she felt his hand leave her wrist.

"Erik?!" she called, near tears. "Where are you?! Don't leave me!"

"I'm here, little one," he called, soothingly, to her surprise. He had heard the distress in her voice and had no doubt that she thought he _had_ left her. There was a suddenly clanging noise, like metal on stone and Meg turned her gaze to it, though she still couldn't see.

"Erik?"

"We're under a manhole in the street," he explained. "Stay silent for a moment."

Meg did as she was told and heard more clanging then a small beam of light come in from above. Moonlight! She had to contain her squeal of delight and smiled instead. There was yet more clanging and the light disappeared.

"Alright," she heard Erik pant. "No one is in the street, so we can get out of here if we hurry. Give me your hand."

"I--"

"Reach out," he instructed, knowing she would say she couldn't see. She reached out and his hand grasped hers, sending a shock through her body. His hands were so warm, and strong, yet gentle as he pulled her toward him.

"There are a few steps," he reported, and Meg nearly stumbled as she tried to walk up them. His hand suddenly fled from her own and she gasped when his arm wrapped around her waist.

"There is only so much room on this step…" he said, as if to explain why he was invading her personal space. The clanging was heard again and the moonlight came back into the small room.

"Put your foot on my knee," Erik instructed, and Meg did as she was told. "Now, use my shoulders to push yourself up and out."

She did that was well, and before she knew it, she was in the street and sitting on the edge of the hole. She was ever so thankful that she was wearing trousers.

"Give me your hands," she whispered, seeing that he would need help to get out also, and holding her hands toward him. He grasped one of her hands and used the other to push himself up. He was so heavy, Meg had to use both her hands to tug on his one, and when he was finally out of the hole, his knee slipped on the wet stone and he fell forward…onto Meg.

Their eyes locked as they looked at each other for their reactions. They both realized that their faces were inches away from the other's and they could see their breath mingling in the cold night air.

"I-I'm sorry," he breathed, scrambling to stand and for a moment, Meg stayed where she was before sitting up. Erik helped her to her feet and they both looked around they street.

"This way," he instructed, turning to walk down the street. He stopped and held his hand to Meg who stared at it dumbly for a moment. She cautiously took his hand and he led her down the street to her home. Their trip was silent for several moments before Meg's curiosity broke through.

"Erik?"

"Yes, Meg?"

She swallowed before answering him. Her name sounded nice when he said it.

"What will you do now?" she wondered, timidly.

"I do not know," he admitted. "I should find a place to stay until I can figure out what it is I _should_ do."

"If you'd like, you could stay with my mother and I," Meg offered. Erik stopped and turned to her with wide eyes.

"What?"

"You said you knew my mother," she reminded him. "I'm sure she will be happy to take you in."

"Take in a fugitive?" he asked skeptically. "I doubt she will want me in her home, Meg."

"What makes you so sure?"

The two jumped and looked to a door to see Antoinette Giry standing in the threshold of her home, her hands on her hips.

"Mother!" Meg gasped.

"Come in here, before someone sees you!" she urged, and the two ran into the house as Antoinette shut the door behind them then turned to Erik. "I was wondering how long it would take for you to come to my door."

"Your daughter was all the motivation I needed," he retorted, folding his arms across his broad chest. "She led the mob to my home."

Antoinette sent a glare to Meg who sent a look of disbelieving anger at Erik for ratting her out. When she looked back at her mother she shrunk back a bit.

"Mother, I'm sorry I disobeyed you, but I was afraid they would hurt me! They _made_ me lead them there, and Christine--" A thought dawned on her mind when she said her friend's name and she looked at Erik with wide eyes.

"Where is Christine?!" she shouted, beginning to hit him, but her small hands had little affect on him. "What have you done with her?!"

"Meg--!"

"I have done _nothing_ to her!" Erik growled and lifted his hands to grip her wrists. He forced her hands down and pulled her face close to his. "She left with Chagny!"

Meg stared up at him as he stared at her in anger, but she saw something else. He couldn't hide the hurt that came to his eyes when he said those words. She knew Raoul loved Christine as well, and she had seen the look in her friend's eyes when she had seen him during the rehearsal for Hannibal…She loved him in return. Meg felt a wave of guilt wash over her. How could she think that Erik would have hurt Christine, the woman he loved so deeply? He may have done horrible things to others, but he would _never_ hurt Christine. He didn't seem like that kind of person at all.

"I'm sorry," she couldn't help but whisper. Erik's eyes went wide with shock, but he didn't let go of her wrists.

"What?" he asked, wondering if he'd heard right.

"I'm sorry," she repeated. "I-I should have known you wouldn't do anything to harm her."

Antoinette watched in evaluation as Erik's look of surprise turned to complete disbelief, and he let Meg's hands go. Something was happening, and she wasn't sure she liked it. If it was what she thought it was, she would have to keep a very close I on the both of them, but _especially_ on Erik.

"Were you planning to stay the night, Erik?" she asked, wanting his attention on her at the moment and away from Meg. He looked up at her with the same wide eyed expression.

"What?" he asked.

"Are you planning to stay the night?" Antoinette repeated as Meg rubbed her wrists but kept her eyes on Erik.

"Oh, I-I wouldn't want to impose," he sputtered, completely lost, and still recovering from Meg's words.

"Nonsense," Antoinette replied. "You are more than welcome to stay here. I've sheltered you this long, I think I can keep you here another night." She turned to her daughter. "Meg, go prepare the guest room."

Meg stood still, staring at Erik, and still rubbing her wrists. Erik turned to her and their eyes locked for a moment. When the young girl didn't move, and Antoinette noticed the gazes they were sharing, she became a bit irritated.

"Meg!" she snapped, wanting her attention. She and Erik both jumped and turned their gaze to Antoinette. "Go prepare the guest room, if you please?"

"Oh," Meg breathed. "Yes, mother." She glanced once more at Erik then walked down the hall.

"And change out of that costume as well!" Antoinette called after her then she turned to Erik who met her gaze of disapproval.

"What?" he shrugged, wondering what he had done now.

"What have you done to my daughter?" Antoinette asked, folding her arms over her chest.

"I have done _nothing_!" Erik replied defensively. "Not one hair on her head was harmed! I got her away from the mob and here with you! Should I not get a 'thank you' for that?!"

"Thank you," Antoinette nodded. "Now, what did you do to her?"

"Nothing!"

"Then why was she looking at you the way she was, and _you_ at _her_ that way?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do not play games with me, Erik," Antoinette warned, holding a finger toward him. "I'll not let you do to Meg what you did to Christine!"

Erik glared at the older woman and felt his fists clench at his sides in rage.

"Must you throw it in my face, Giry?!" he snarled, but she was not afraid of his temper. "I know what I have done is terrible! Everything I have done, I am going to Hell for! What could I possibly gain from having it thrown in my face, over and over again?!"

"I warn you, Erik," Antoinette said in a low murmur. "You swore you wouldn't hurt my daughter when she became a dancer in the ballet corps. You had better not break your promise."

**A/N:** Well, how do ya like it so far? I think it's going pretty well, but that's just me. Reviews please!


	2. Surprises

**A/N:** i finally got this chapter done too. i hope it's ok. enjoy!

_**Chapter 2: Surprises**_

Meg hurried to fix the guest room properly for Erik to spend the night. She had hoped her mother would try to keep him here, and she did. Now she couldn't wipe the smile from her face. He was staying at least the night, and for some reason, she was happy that he was. What was all of this?! First the blushing, then the shocks and chills every time he touched her, even a moment, not to mention the goose bumps she had gotten on her wrists when he had gripped her and pulled her close.

"_Oh, so close_," her mind echoed. She shivered when a chill ran down her spine. This was exhilarating, whatever I was. She'd been around men, but none of them made her feel like this. It was as if she…

That was it! She was attracted to him! But, how could that have been when they knew nothing of each other? Now she was even _more_ confused. Well, there was no use contemplating it now, she supposed.

Meg walked to the door and stood to face the room and take in her progress. She nodded and turned to walk out of the room but gasped when she was met by a barrier.

"Erik!" she breathed in shock. She hesitated before saying anything more, seeing the expression on his face was not a happy one. "What's wrong?"

"Your _mother_ seems to think I've done something to you," he grumbled, walking into the room. Meg frowned in wonder and quickly shut the door as she stepped toward him.

"What do you mean?" she questioned.

"She thinks I look at you a certain way," Erik replied, sitting on the edge of the bed and trying to get his shoes off. "And _you_ look at _me_ the same way." He suddenly froze and looked up at her, but she quickly cast her eyes down, wringing her hands.

"W-What way is that?" she asked, trying not to fidget under his intense stare.

"I do not know," he admitted and stood slowly then approached her just as slowly. She stayed still, confused. Her mind was telling her to run but her feet wouldn't move. He stood directly in front of her and Meg could feel her heart pounding in her chest.

"_So close_…" she thought. He brought his hand to her chin and gently lifted her gaze to meet his. Their eyes met and she suddenly felt like fleeing the room. He was looking for that look her mother had told him about, she knew it. Her dark brown eyes gazed into his sea-green ones as she, too, looked for it in his gaze.

"_That_ look," he suddenly murmured and she had to bite the inside of her lip to keep from gasping.

"I-I do not know--"

"The look I had wanted from Christine," he continued, and this made Meg's heart drop a little. He was not rid of her yet, and Meg knew he wouldn't be for some time. Christine was not the kind of woman you loved and then forgot. She stuck with you.

"I'm sorry, then," Meg finally said with a bite to her voice that Erik didn't fail to notice. "I'll try not to look at you anymore."

"That is not what I meant, Meg," he replied, calmly. She shook her head and turned to leave, but Erik pulled her back by her arm, gently. She looked back at him with wide eyes as he kept holding her arm and stared back at her. "I _like_ that look. It shows me that you are not afraid of me."

"I don't even know _how_ I looked at you," Meg said, honestly.

"With everything _but_ fear," he smiled slightly. Meg stared at him with wide eyes as he took her hand and brought it to his face to kiss it softly.

"Thank you," he murmured against her skin, then looked up to meet her gaze of surprise. She swallowed, trying to moisten her suddenly dry mouth. This was too much. She hesitantly pulled her hand away, not wanting him to think she was doing so because she was repulsed or afraid, she smiled.

"I should go change out of this costume," she laughed nervously, backing to the door and bumping into it as she fumbled to find the door knob. She found it but when she opened the door she stepped back a little too far and fell to the floor.

"Meg!" Erik gasped, running to her and helping her up. "Are you alright?!"

"Y-Yes, I'm fine!" she lied, her back now throbbing. "I-I just tripped. I'll be fine. Thank you, Erik. I hope your room is to your liking. I'll see you in the morning. Good night!" She ran to her room across the hall and shut the door, leaving Erik standing in the hall in wide eyed shock.

"Good night," he finally said to the closed door. He turned to his room but before going in he noticed Antoinette standing in the hall, hands on her hips and glaring at him.

"I did _nothing_ to her!" he snarled, knowing the reason for her glare, and went into his room, slamming the door behind him.

--

Meg leaned against her door, trying to catch her breath. She ran her shaking hands through her tangled blonde hair, dropping slowly to the floor. When he had kissed her hand, something had happened that she'd never felt before. There was some emotion that was stirred that she never encountered, and it frightened her. No man had had an affect on her like this, ever, and it only confirmed her earlier revelation. That being that she found Erik attractive. Even with his face the way it was, he was a handsome man. A genius, and mysterious. He was a man, not a monster as she had first thought, until the night of the Masquerade.

She had not really seen him until that night. She knew the Phantom of the Opera was in the _form_ of a man, but when she _saw_ him the night of the Masquerade Ball, she saw a _man_, not a monster. He was flesh and blood. And when she found that he was also Christine's Angel of Music, she had felt a twinge of jealousy.

Christine had _two_ men fighting for her affections! A rich viscount _and_ a genius in music were both in mad love with her and she had been _complaining_! Meg clearly remembered after the Masquerade speaking with her friend about what had happened. Christine was saying she was tired of these two men fighting for her. At that point Meg had felt like switching places with her friend. The whole thing sounded exciting!

Meg sighed and brought herself back to her present predicament. What could she do about her new found attraction to Erik? Should she tell him? Should she tell her mother? No, that would do no good. Her mother had been trying for ages to keep her from finding Erik, and Meg suspected she had a good reason. What it was she couldn't figure out, but she decided to leave it alone.

She sighed hopelessly and began changing for bed, still thinking of what to do. If she told Erik how she felt, he surely wouldn't believe her. He thought himself a monster, and Meg could understand why. He had done terrible things, and his face was frightening to behold for some, but Meg didn't think of him as a monster anymore, or even incapable of being loved. She made a decision then and there that as long as she was with Erik, she was going to show him that he was a man and _not_ the monster he thought himself to be.

--

Christine stared solemnly out the window of the carriage, Raoul sitting across from her, but his cloak was wrapped around her shoulders, covering the wedding dress that _He_ had made her wear. Raoul gazed at her, his clothes and hair still drenched from being thrown into the underground lake, his neck still sore from the Phantom's rope being around it. He couldn't help but smile at her. Even in sorrow she looked beautiful.

"What's wrong, Little Lotte?" he asked, soothingly, sitting forward to take her hand. Christine turned her gaze to Raoul who was taken aback by the sadness in her eyes.

"I hurt him, Raoul," she breathed, and her shoulders began shuddering with silent sobs. "I hurt him deeply. I could see it in his eyes. I didn't mean to hurt him, Raoul. I didn't want to!"

Raoul quickly moved to sit next to her on her side of the carriage and gathered her into his arms as she began sobbing. As he hushed and comforted her, he couldn't help feeling anger boil beneath the surface. _He_ was still causing grief with them, and Raoul knew it would be a long time before he was finally gone. The worst toyed with Raoul's mind. What he _never_ left? What if his presence still lingered between them? He prayed to God it wouldn't happen. Christine sat up and looked into his eyes.

"Raoul," she breathed, and he looked down at her. "He'll haunt us forever, I know it. We'll never be rid of him." She buried her face to the curve of his neck and sobbed again. He'd just heard what he hadn't wanted to. He felt one of his hands clench at his side. He wouldn't let this Phantom come between him and his Little Lotte.

"_Giry_," he thought. "_I'll ask her what I should do. And if she has no answer for me, I'll find that __thing__ and kill him myself. He will not haunt Christine any longer._"

--

Antoinette sat at her vanity, fixing to go to bed. It was the worst. Meg and Erik were becoming _far_ too close for her comfort. She had tried for years to keep Meg away from Erik because she knew that if it hadn't been Christine, it would have been her daughter that he fell in love with. Meg was just as beautiful as Christine, and though she had little skill in singing, she was Antoinette's pride and joy as a dancer as much as her daughter.

"Maybe you have nothing to fear?" she told herself. "After all, Meg was _especially_ afraid of him. Perhaps that fear will keep her from pursuing him?" She briefly flashed back to several moments ago when she had seen Meg look at Erik after she had told her to prepare a room. The way she looked at him…and then _he_ looked at _her_…

"I'll not let him do to _her_ what he did to Christine," she pledged. "I'll not let him hurt Meg." She stood and walked to her door then into the hall, but just as she was going to walk toward Erik's room, there was a knock on the door. She whirled around and frowned at it.

"Who is visiting at _this_ hour?" she wondered and walked toward the door. She didn't notice Meg slowly open her door and peek out after her. Antoinette came to the door as another knock was heard and she opened it.

"Raoul?!"

"Madame Giry," Raoul breathed heavily, letting himself in. "I must speak with you."

Antoinette shut the door and turned to him, finally seeing Meg in the hall, the girl's eyes wide with panic and disbelief.

"Of course, Raoul," she said, calmly. "Won't you have a seat by the fireplace. It must be cold out there!"

Raoul sat himself in a chair by the fireplace as Antoinette glanced at Meg a few times, but the girl did not move from her hiding place at the corner of the hall.

"Where is Christine?" Antoinette asked, knowing Meg would want to know the whereabouts of her friend and knowing she could hear from her place in the hall.

"She is safe," Raoul replied. "I left her at my chateau before coming here, but I fear for her, still."

"Fear for her?" Antoinette echoed as she sat in a chair in front of Raoul. "Why do you fear for her? She is in your protection now."

"But she is _still_ tormented by…_him_," Raoul replied in a low, jealous voice. "She confessed to me that she hurt him with what she's done. She says we'll never be rid of him. That he'll haunt us _forever_! This is why I've come, to ask for your help."

"You forget, Raoul, that she saw him as her Angel of Music for years and--"

"Forgive me, Madame, but you misunderstand me," Raoul cut in, and Antoinette frowned in wonder. "I've come to ask for your help in _finding_ him. He _must_ be dealt with by myself. Not the police, not even _you_, Madame. I _must_ know where he is so that I may rid Christine of him once and for all."

"Raoul, you know what you are saying, don't you?" Antoinette breathed, nearly panicking because she knew _exactly_ where Erik was…just down the hall.

"Yes, Madame, of course," Raoul replied with a short, determined nod. "I mean to _kill_ him, for it is the _only_ way Christine will be rid of him, if he is _dead_."

--

Meg Giry didn't wait for her mother's question to float down the hall and into her ears. As soon as Raoul had said, "I _must_ know where he is so that I may rid Christine of him once and for all," she was quickly and quietly rushing to the room where Erik was. She didn't bother knocking and slowly opened the door, which she was surprised to find unlocked, and slipped into the room, closing the door just and slowly.

"Meg, what are you--?!" Erik's question was cut off when she rushed toward him and placed a hand over his mouth with a silencing finger over her own.

"Raoul is here," she whispered frantically. "Mother is talking to him now."

Erik's eyes grew wide and he yanked his head from her hand to speak.

"Then let me wring his neck for--!"

"Hush! Do you want to get yourself killed?!" Meg whispered harshly.

"He couldn't kill me if he wanted to!" Erik growled and tried to shove her away to get to the door.

"He _does_, Erik!" Meg replied, shoving herself in front of him and he looked down at her in shock. "He _wants_ to kill you! That's why he is here! Just a moment ago he asked mother where you are!"

Erik's eyes widened in disbelief at that. That fop was going to try to kill _him_?! The Opera Ghost?! What made that boy think he stood a chance? Then there was another thought that cam to him: Christine. She would never let Raoul do such a thing, would she?

"Is Christine with him?" Erik whispered and Meg felt as if a knife had been plunged into her heart. Of _course_ he would ask about Christine. Never mind that _Meg_ was trying to save his life, but where was Christine?

"No," she replied with a slight bite that she didn't mean use. "Raoul is the only one here. He said he left her at his chateau before coming here. I'm sure she is safe."

Erik gave a sigh of relief at hearing Christine was safe then snapped a stone face to Meg and said, "If he wants to kill me he will have to _fight_ me first."

"Are you mad?!" Meg breathed with wide eyes. "No. My mother will not let you. In fact, neither will _I_!"

"And what makes you think _you_ can do anything to stop me?!" Erik growled and thinking the conversation was over he started toward the door again. Meg yanked him back by the arm and Erik stared at her in angered disbelief.

"I'll not let you get killed!" she hissed. "Why can you not leave well enough alone?!"

"One could say the same of that fop!" Erik retorted. "He has Christine! Why must he come to flaunt it in my face and kill me?!"

"I would say the same to him if he were here now!" Meg snapped. "But I am asking _you_. Mother will not tell him where you are, so do not make trouble for yourself!"

Erik stared at the little blonde ballerina emotionless. She had a point, but he wasn't about to tell her that. He knew Antoinette wouldn't give him up to Raoul, even if he begged and pleaded. She promised to offer him shelter whenever he needed it, but it wouldn't last long.

"There is a place you can hide until Raoul is gone," Meg whispered, breaking through Erik's thoughts. He looked at her with wide eyes filled with wonder.

"Why would I need to hide?" he smirked, confidently.

"In case Raoul wants a tour, now come!" she retorted, grabbing his hand and nearly dragging him toward the wardrobe at one end of the room. Trying to move him was not an easy task, and neither was trying to shove the wardrobe forward from one end, but she did both. Beneath the wardrobe was a trap door which Erik frowned at before turning his frown to Meg as she stood beside it.

"Mother had this put in a long time ago," she explained, taking his arm and leading him toward it. "She did so in case of situations such as this one. Now, get in!"

"Who allowed _you_ to tell me what to do?" Erik wondered as he knelt down and opened the trap door. Meg pursed her lips and stomped her foot, too frustrated to even argue with him. She just pointed to the now open trap door that led to a secret little room beneath the floor and Erik smirked in amusement.

"Having a tantrum, are we, Little Giry?" he wondered, sarcastically. "You look like your mother."

With that, before Meg had a chance to hit him upside the head, he jumped into the little hiding place and shut the door behind him. Meg growled in frustration and marched to the door to stomp on it. With a satisfied and quick nod she took a small rug from the one of the small draws on the wardrobe and laid it over the door on the floor. She turned to the door leading into the hall and hurried toward it, but as she reached to open it, she heard murmuring on the other side of the door.

"I assure you, Raoul," finally said, rather loudly, "he is not here. And _if_ he were, I would tell you."

"Let me see your guest room in any case, Madame Giry," Raoul insisted, and Meg panicked, knowing _she_ really had no business being in that room. She heard her mother say something else, but she paid no attention as she looked around for a place that _she_ could hide. She ran to the wardrobe and opened the doors where jackets and things hung and slid her petite body into it, closing the doors just enough to peek into the room without being seen. She heard the door to the room open and saw Raoul walk in and survey the room as he stood at attention.

"As you can see, Monsieur le Vicomte," Antoinette said with a slight tone of sarcasm. "There is _no one_ here."

"The bed has fresh sheets on it," Raoul noticed, lifting the corner of the bedspread.

"Of course," Antoinette chirped. "I change the sheets every day in case of surprise visitors."

Meg knew this was true. Antoinette Giry always wanted things to be clean and tidy in case any relatives decided to drop in unexpectedly.

She watched in horror as Raoul strode out of her sight to the side of the wardrobe where the rug lay on the floor.

"An odd place for a wardrobe, isn't it?" Raoul observed, and Meg's heart raced in panic. "And this rug? What is it covering, dare I ask?"

"An unsightly stain of wine that never came up from the wood, no matter _what_ I did," Antoinette lied, smoothly. "As for the wardrobe, I didn't tell the movers exactly _where_ to place things in this room, and I never got around to changing the arrangements. Now, if you do not _mind_, Raoul, I am _extremely_ tired from the ordeal of the day and would like to get some sleep before the police arrive in the morning to question me, which I'm sure they will."

Meg held back from snickering. She was sure that Raoul was staring at her with wide eyes of disbelief that she would say all of that.

"V-Very well," Raoul stammered, and Meg heard them both go back into the hall and shut the door. She slowly climbed out of the wardrobe and sighed in relief that she hadn't been caught. For a moment, she thought Raoul would certainly open the wardrobe and find her. She was grateful it didn't happen. She would not have been able to lie so easily as her mother had.

Meg hurried to the rug and pulled it from the trap door then swung it open.

"May I come _out_ now, mademoiselle?" Erik asked sarcastically, his arms crossed over his chest.

Meg stared at him for a second or so then smiled and hissed, "No!" She slammed the door shut again and sat on it, crossing her legs. Erik growled and banged on the door to be let out, but Meg didn't budge.

"Your mother would not appreciate this," his muffled threat came up from the floor.

"She would, actually," Meg smiled confidently. "You need to be taught how to speak to properly to a lady."

"Years of isolation have kept me from my lessons," Erik reminded.

"Then they shall resume," Meg nodded, and got up to open the door again. She looked down at him, determined as he looked at her in shock. "We shall start with the lesson of speaking with _respect_, not _sarcasm_!"

"Meg?"

She jumped and looked to the door as her mother stood in the threshold.

"What are you doing?" Antoinette asked. "Let him out of there."

"Mother, I was--"

"Your daughter is insisting I stay in this rat trap in the floor," Erik complained inaccurately as he lifted himself from out of the floor.

"That is not true!" Meg argued. "He was speaking to me disrespectfully!"

"I simply asked if I could be let out," Erik continued, knowing he was getting her into trouble, but as he approached Antoinette she looked at him blankly.

"I'll not fall for your false accusations, Erik," she smirked. "I know my daughter well enough to know that _you_ are causing trouble." She turned from Erik's smirk and looked at Meg's frown of wonder at the two.

"I take it you heard what was said?" she asked her daughter.

"Some," Meg replied. "I heard that he was…" She hesitated before going on, never thinking that Raoul would really do what she was about to say he wanted to. "…that is, that he wants to…kill Erik."

"And that's all?" Antoinette asked and Meg nodded. The older woman noticed Erik's hands clench into fists and knew he was thinking of wringing the viscount's neck. "Meg, why don't you get ready for bed? The police will be here in the morning and it has been an…_exciting_ day."

Erik notice her glance at him when she said that, but he didn't care. What had happened, happened. He had had no other choice, he thought. What else could he have done to keep Christine with him? Sorrow filled his heart at that thought. He had done all of that for her, and she _still_ left him.

He walked toward the bed as Antoinette ushered Meg from the room, but before she left, the blonde ballerina glanced at Erik with a small smile. He didn't notice. Antoinette shut the door behind Meg and turned to Erik as he turned to her.

"She came in _here_," he said quickly. "I left her alone as you told me to."

"I know," Antoinette nodded. Erik sighed as she sat on the bed, running a hand through his hair. For a moment, silence reigned between them, but Erik broke it as quickly as it had started.

"So tell me what else 'le Vicomte' told you," he demanded, sarcastically. "That's why you sent Meg away, isn't it? To tell me what else he said."

Antoinette sighed and stepped slowly toward him to stand in front of him.

"He wishes to kill you," she repeated. "But only because he thinks you still have a hold over Christine. She said she was sure she hurt you, and that you would haunt them for the rest of their lives."

Erik smirked at that, not being able to help it. Of course he would. He was her Angel of Music, after all. He wouldn't give up so easily.

"Whatever you are thinking, I will not let you do it," Antoinette said sternly, breaking through his thoughts. Erik looked up at her with a start. "If you love Christine, you will let her be happy with her viscount."

This sent Erik's temper flaring and he stood from the bed to look down at an unafraid Madame Giry.

"That would not be love, that would be cowardice!" he growled. "_I_ am no coward!"

"Says the man who stalks in the shadows," Antoinette retorted. "Creeping about the opera house to hide his face and going by the names of 'Opera Ghost,' 'Phantom' and 'Angel of Music.'"

"_You_ of all people know why I did so," he said in a low, threatening voice. "If I am not mistaken, it was _you_ who told me to stay hidden."

"For your own protection," Antoinette replied. "I never told you to make yourself a ghost."

Erik looked away, defeated. He knew she had only _ever_ tried to protect him, but it had left him alone and unloved. Love was the only thing he had wanted and could never have, and he knew why. He had always known his face would stand between him and that sweet feeling.

"Tell me you forgive her," Antoinette continued, gently. "Tell me you release her for good and _I_ will tell _her_. Then she will be happy." She placed a hand on his face to turn his gaze to hers. "Do you not wish her to be happy?"

He looked into her eyes with nothing but sorrow and loneliness. It hurt her to have to tell him to let go of what he loved, but she had to. It would torment both him and Christine if this kept on.

Erik closed his eyes and nodded ever so slightly and ever so slowly. It had to be done. He _did_ want to see Christine happy, and if he let her go, maybe he would see her happy…someday.

"It is for the better, Erik," Antoinette assured him, placing the hand that had been on his cheek on his shoulder. "You will see that in time." She turned and went to the door as she said, "I shall write a letter to Christine telling her not to fear your return, and a letter to Raoul telling him to leave you be."

She shut the door behind her, leaving Erik alone in the room. He had nodded, but in his heart, he was still in love with Christine. He hadn't _really_ let her go, and he knew it would be a long time before he could.

A small knock jolted him from his thoughts and he simply stared at the door for a moment thinking, "_What does that woman want __now__? Shall she take away my love for music as well?!_"

"Erik?" Meg's muffled and timid call came from the other side of the door.

"_I'm not sure what is worse_," he thought as he headed for the door. "_Antoinette or Meg? A tie, I suppose_."

He opened the door and Meg jumped from her slightly bent pose, for she had been leaning on the door to hear what he was doing in the room and Erik stared at her in irritation.

"What is it _now_, Meg?" he groaned, tired of everything that had happened.

"I…" Meg tried, then cast her eyes down and muttered. "I thought you should know. I think I found a surname for you."

"Did you, petit cavlier?" he smirked, folding his arms over his chest and leaning against the door frame. "And dare I ask what you've come up with?"

She looked at him with wide eyes filled with surprise at what he had called her. It made her heart skip a beat. No one had ever called her that, and even though it was something so very simple and without any affection that she could tell, rather sarcastic, actually, it still gave her a small thrill.

"Well," she began, recovering herself. "If you're going to be _that_ way about it, I think I _shan't_ tell you. Good night, Monsieur No One." She turned to walk into her room a few feet down the hall, but was stopped.

"Wait," Erik called, gently gripping her upper arm. She turned to him again as he looked down both ends of the hall for any sign of the woman of the house, no doubt she would scold him for even _touching_ Meg. He slowly pulled her closer until they both stood in his doorway, Meg on one end, leaning back against the frame and Erik in front of her doing the same.

"I suppose the proper thing to do would be to apologize for my foul mood," he muttered, kicking at an invisible something on the floor and not looking at her directly. "That being said I don't think I have to actually apologize for my rudeness. The hour is late and neither one of us has had rest today, I'm sure."

"True," Meg nodded, glancing at him a few times after she did.

Silence filled their space for a few moments before Erik asked, "What name have you come up for me?"

"Well," Meg replied, pushing off of leaning on the frame. "I thought _very_ long and hard, and I think the name 'Deveraux' suits you nicely."

"It does, does it?" Erik smirked, pushing off the frame as well. "And how is that, pray tell?"

"W-Well," Meg hesitated, taking an extremely small step toward him. "That name has a…_powerful_ sound to it, I think, but also sounds mysterious and threatening. _I_ wouldn't pick a fight with someone who had a name like that."

"What _would_ you do with a person who had that name?" Erik asked sincerely, to Meg's surprise as he too took just as small a step toward her. She glanced at him, taking one more step so that she was nearly in the middle of the doorway then cast her eyes down as she twiddled her fingers.

"Why do you ask?" she wondered timidly. He took that last step as well and stood directly in front of her as they looked at each other.

"I suppose…I'm curious," he confessed. "I hardly know anything about you. I only know that you are Christine's best friend…and that you are a fine dancer--"

"You've seen me dance?" she cut in gently, amazed that he would even think of her when he was in love with Christine. She couldn't help the small smile that adorned her lips and Erik couldn't help it when he returned it, seeing her dark eyes sparkle at his comment.

"Yes," he replied. "I've seen you dance." He leaned forward to whisper in her ear and Meg felt like her heart was going to jump out of her chest. "I know you sneak out to the stage at night after everyone is asleep and you practice for hours before you return to your dormitory."

Meg stared at him in shock when he leaned out to look at her then breathlessly said, "You knew? All the time you knew? And all the time you were watching me?"

Erik only nodded with a slight smile and Meg swallowed, trying to moisten her drying mouth.

"I must confess, I've never seen any dancer with your grace, not even Christine," he said, and Meg felt her spirits lift. To compare her to Christine was the highest honor she could receive from _him_.

"Well, I wouldn't liken myself to Christine," she smiled modestly, knowing he was probably only saying that to make up for his attitude toward her until now.

"Oh, Christine was a fine dancer as well, but--"

"But?" Meg echoed, tilting her head slightly in question when he cut himself off.

"Well, as you know, that was not her passion, so she didn't really give her all into it, did she?" Erik confessed.

"No," Meg replied, thoughtfully. "I suppose she didn't. But she tried her best all the time."

"I know," Erik mused, thinking of some of the times he had seen her practice. Meg felt like a third wheel between him and his memories so she decided it was best if she retired.

"Well, I think I shall go to bed now," she reported, jolting Erik from his thoughts and he looked at her as she turned in the door way. "Good night."

"Good night," he nodded and she began walking to her room. As she reached the door he added, "Thank you for the surname, Mademoiselle Giry."

"You are quite welcome, Monsieur _Deveraux_," Meg smiled the disappeared into her room. Erik couldn't help but smile at hearing his new name. Monsieur Deveraux. It sounded like a noble's name, but he supposed he agreed with Meg, it suited him.

He turned into his room and shut the door then leaned against it, thinking of what he and Meg had talked about. He had liked that. Talking to her civilly and without sarcasm on his part. But as much as he liked talking with her, he knew he had to figure out what he was going to do now that he was a fugitive. Antoinette was right. The police would be coming in the morning since they hadn't made an appearance tonight.

"_Where will I go?_" he wondered. "_What the hell am I going to do?_"

**A/N: **well how'd i do? i picked Deveraux for his last name cuz...well, we never really find out his last name, do we? movies and things make up different last names for Erik, so i thought i'd pick my own instead of using Destler this time. im gonna use that one in another fic. reviews please?


	3. In Your Heart

**A/N:** and then there were three! finally got the third chapter done and up and running. my stupid computer was out and now that its fixed, i cant get the net to work. anyway, enough with my problems, enjoy!

_**Chapter 3: In Your Heart**_

Erik sat uncomfortably in the hiding place in his room the next morning, reading a book that Meg had let him borrow by candle light. He had been in there for what seemed like hours, being at chapter twenty-nine of the chapter forty-five long book. Every once in a while he would hear footsteps above him and assumed it must have been the police searching the room for the umpteenth time. That was why he was there, cramped in that small rat hole, because the police had arrived, just as Antoinette had predicted.

They had arrived almost immediately after breakfast. Meg had, of course, panicked about them finding Erik, and ushered him into the hole with a book to pass the time. Antoinette, as calmly as ever, advised that Meg go to the market for some groceries they were in need of. Erik was grateful for that. Meg was a little Nervous Nelly, and she certainly would have tipped the police off of his whereabouts, even if she didn't mean to.

Erik sighed and closed his book. He wasn't really reading it at the moment. He was trying to figure out what to do now. He couldn't stay with Antoinette and Meg, he knew that. He would have to flee the country, or at least Paris. Maybe he could live out in the country somewhere deep in the woods where he could live as a hermit. Lord knew he couldn't be around people. He'd been isolated so long he'd forgotten what being a person required. He only knew darkness, music and death.

Yes, he was destined for a hermit's life. Isolated and unloved for the rest of his life. It would be the only way to keep him from pursuing Christine, and keep that situation from happening again with another woman, though he was certain there would be no other that held his heart.

He suddenly found himself wondering what Christine was doing at that moment. Was she thinking of him? No, of course not. Why would she? She was free now, whether she knew it yet or not, and he was sure he would be the _last_ thing on her mind. He was also quite certain she wouldn't even miss him if her mind ever wondered to him. He had been nothing but a plague to her. He realized that now.

More footsteps above, coming toward the door. He quickly doused the candle, covering him in a cloak of darkness he almost didn't want to leave ever again. The trap door opened to reveal Madame Giry standing above him.

"They have finally gone," she reported, tiredly.

"It's a bout time," Erik grumbled, struggling to let himself out of the hole, taking the candle and book with him. He stood tall and stretched the stiffness from his muscles as Antoinette closed the door and covered it with the rug again. She wouldn't bother dragging the wardrobe over it while Erik was there. He looked around in evaluation. Something was missing and he turned to Antoinette to question her.

"Where is Meg?" he wondered and she messaged a crick from her back from bending toward the floor. "Should she not be back from the market?"

"I am not surprised she hasn't returned," Antoinette replied, sitting on the bed. "She has a tendency to take longer than needed to do anything."

"I see," Erik nodded, placing the book on the stand next to the bed, then frowned in wonder when he noticed Antoinette rubbing her eyes in tiredness. He'd never seen her so drained before, but it seems the visit from the police had taken a lot out of her.

"Perhaps you should rest?" he suggested, but Antoinette only shook her head as she stood.

"No," she sighed tiredly again. "There is too much that needs to be done. The house must be cleaned, I must fix lunch---"

"I can take care of the household things," Erik blurted, causing Antoinette to shoot a wide-eyed gaze of surprise at him.

"Do not look so surprised, manman," he smirked, using his affectionate name for her. "You've done so much for me in my life, it's time I reciprocated. And the _least_ I can do is take care of the house while you rest."

Without another word, Erik led her from the room and down the hall as Antoinette stared at him in shock the whole way to her room. Erik was a bit shocked at himself as he placed a kiss on his "mother's" temple and nudged her into her room. This was unexpected of him. He suspected he was trying to live up to the new name Meg had given him. A gentleman's name. He also suspected that he was, in fact, trying to reciprocate Antoinette's kindness toward him over the years. Well, whichever it was, he quite liked the looks of surprise he received from both Girys, and decided to keep being unpredictable.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meg stood in front of the chateau, slightly tired from walking and very intimidated by the size of it. She wasn't surprised by its size…after all, the Viscount lived there. She trudged up the steps, lifting her emerald skirts out the way of her feet. She stood in front of the door and swallowed before pulling the rope to ring the bell inside.

She had decided to visit Christine, knowing she would probably be in need of a friend right now, and she was in need of her friend as well. Deciding what to do about Erik was driving her mad. Of course, she wouldn't tell Christine exactly _who_ it was when she would talk about it. She couldn't.

The door opened, what seemed like ages later, and a surprised Raoul stood in the doorway.

"Meg!" he smiled. "How wonderful to see you."

"And you, Monsieur le Vicomte," Meg nodded with a smile. "Is Christine here?"

"Yes, please, come in," he entreated, stepping aside to let her in. "She is in the drawing room. Let me show you there."

"You're too kind."

"I visited your mother last night," Raoul reported, making conversation.

"Yes, she told me at breakfast this morning," she lied, hesitantly. "Forgive my absence. I went to bed after…" She trailed off, not knowing exactly how to describe what had happened last night.

"Yes, I'm sure you were exhausted," Raoul continued, saving her from continuing then changed the subject, realizing he hadn't seen a carriage waiting for Meg. "You came here alone?"

"Yes, I walked," she replied with a small nod.

"You _walked_ from your mother's home, here?! Alone?!" Raoul wondered, astonished as he stopped and turned Meg to face him.

"Oh, the trip was not as taxing as one would think," she assured him, though she was lying through her teeth. This was a detour. She had _supposed_ to go to the market, but she realized that her mother only wanted her out of the house while the police were there.

"Well, you'll not be walking back," Raoul said, leading her through the chateau again. "I shall have my carriage brought up for you when you are ready to leave."

"Oh, no! That's not necessary, I assure you!" Meg told him quickly.

"And I assure you, it _is_, Meg," he smiled warmly as they stopped in front of a door. "If it were any trouble, I would not offer. I'll not have my fiancé's best friend spoil her feet. Your mother would never forgive me."

Meg sighed in defeat and nodded as she said, "Thank you."

Raoul opened the door they stood next to and led her in where Meg saw Christine sitting in a large chair next to the fireplace, reading.

"Little Lotte," he called, and Christine turned to his voice. "Meg has come to see you."

"Meg!" Christine grinned, her whole face lighting up as she stood and ran to her friend. They embraced as Christine giggled in excitement. "I know it has only been since yesterday that I've not seen you, but I missed you!"

"I missed _you_, as well, Christine," Meg smiled as the brunette led her toward the fireplace and Raoul made a silent exit, knowing he had been forgotten for the moment and wanting his beloved to have time with her friend.

"Oh, Meg," Christine sighed as she sat in her chair and Meg, gratefully, sat in the chair across from her. "Where did you run off to? I couldn't find you when Raoul brought me back to the opera house. I wanted to take you home, but you had disappeared!"

"Oh, well…" Meg trailed off for a moment, wondering what she should say when she reached the part about following Erik down his tunnel. "Well…the stage hands and police all gathered together and made me lead them down to the catacombs to find E---the Opera Ghost, but he was nowhere to be found, and neither were you."

"So you followed the mob back to the surface?" Christine assumed.

"Yes," Meg nodded then thought. "_Sure. We'll say that's what I did_."

"Oh, Meg, you must have been frightened when you couldn't find me! I know I was when I couldn't find _you_!"

"I was, dear friend," Meg fibbed slightly, because it wasn't until _after_ she was home that she became truly worried for her friend. "But mother told me you were safe with Raoul."

"_What a friend I am turning out to be_," Meg thought regrettably.

"But, how have _you_ been holding up," Meg wondered, quickly changing the subject from anything else she had to lie about. "I hope you're alright now, aren't you?"

"No, Meg," Christine replied, solemnly. "I'm afraid I'm not." She paused to cast her eyes down in her lap and wring her hands.

"He's still with me," she whispered, and Meg leaned in to hear exactly what her friend was saying. "I feel him around. I hear him, still, in my dreams." She looked up at Meg who jumped back at the sight of Christine's suddenly tear filled and frightened gaze. "He'll haunt me forever, Meg! He's not forgiven me for leaving him! I cannot forgive _myself!_"

Christine sobbed as she threw herself into Meg's lap, seeking comfort. Meg jumped again at the action, but patted her friend's head with a small sigh.

"Oh, Christine, you may think he is here, but he is not," Meg crooned. "And you did what you thought best, did you not? You did what your heart told you to do."

"But, Meg," Christine sobbed, lifting her head to look at her friend and wiping her tears away with trembling hands. "I hurt him deeply. I left him after I had told him I would show him that he wasn't alone, and if that was not enough, I went back only to give him the ring he had given me! I added insult to injury and left him alone!"

Christine began another fit of sobs into her friend's lap and Meg bit her lip as she nodded in agreement. Yes, everything Christine had done was rather hurtful, but Meg wouldn't say that.

"But, he must respect your choice, Christine," Meg said gently. "I'm sure he does. I'm sure that because he loves you, he will only want your happiness."

"No," Christine shuddered, once again lifting her head as she tried again to wipe her face. "He knew I loved Raoul, and he still wanted me with _him_." She suddenly froze and clutched Meg's hands making the blonde jump as Christine stared wide eyes at her.

"Did they catch him?" she breathed, hopefully. "Did the police find him? You were there, weren't you, Meg? Tell me what happened?"

"Oh, um, well…" Meg trailed off at total loss. "I-I'm not sure if they did, my friend. You see, I could only follow so long, and then mother came for me…" She trailed off again when Christine sighed in disappointment.

"I do not wish any harm to come to him, of course," she assured, more herself, than Meg. "But at least, if I knew he was far from here, I would be more at ease."

"I truly am sorry, Christine," Meg said again, but Christine only shook her head and slid from the floor and into her chair again.

"It's not your fault, Meg," Christine assured her. "How could it be? You couldn't possibly know where he is."

Meg gave a small nervous laugh, but Christine paid no attention to it. She hated lying through her teeth like this, but it was to protect Erik from Raoul and Christine from Erik.

"Oh, enough of this," Christine said, waving the situation away for the moment then leaned toward Meg. "How is your mother?"

"Well," Meg smiled warmly. "The police are questioning her, which is why she sent me…out."

"Out?" Christine frowned in confusion at the blonde's hesitation.

"Yes," Meg began, then cleared her throat. "You see, I was _supposed_ to go to the market, but I came here instead."

Christine chuckled and shook her head then said, "She will be worried if you do not arrive home soon then?"

"Possibly," Meg nodded, then decided to change the subject. "May I ask for some advice from you, Christine?"

"Of course, mon ami," Christine replied, leaning forward with a concerned frown marring her beautiful face. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing is wrong…per say," Meg replied, making Christine sigh in relief. Meg hesitated before continuing and sat forward to murmur softly to her friend. "You see…I've, recently…met someone, and I find myself becoming more and more…attracted to him."

"Meg!" Christine gasped in delight, taking one of her hands with a huge grin. "Who is it?!"

Meg felt her heart pound in her chest in panic. She couldn't tell her it was Erik, of course, but she had to say _something_.

"Oh, no one you know," she lied, then looked away from her friend's elated gaze so she wouldn't notice the lie. "In any case, I find myself conflicted."

"About what?" Christine asked and Meg glanced at her as she began wringing her hands in her lap when Christine pulled her own away.

"Well…I cannot seem to decide whether or not to tell him. That is…I'm not sure if I _should_. If I told him, he probably wouldn't believe me."

"Why wouldn't he believe you?" Christine wondered, wanting more than anything to help her friend.

"W-Well," Meg sputtered, wondering how she should handle this question as well. "You see, he doesn't seem to think any woman would be attracted to him."

"Is he handsome?" Christine asked.

"Oh, yes," Meg nodded, then thought to herself. "_Aside from the one side of his face, which I don't even notice anymore, he is quite handsome_."

"Hmmm," Christine hummed in thought then smiled warmly at Meg who stared at her as if waiting for the wisdom of the ages. "I am going to tell you what you told me only a moment ago. Follow what your heart tells you. The next time you see him, you will know if you should or should not."

Meg stared at her friend and blinked a few times in astonishment. That wisdom was Christine's, not _hers_ as she claimed it was. It couldn't be! But Meg thought back to when she used those words, and it made perfect sense. She wondered why she didn't think of it before. It was so simple!

"You should go home before your mother sends a search party for you," Christine giggled, jolting Meg from her thoughts. The two women stood and embraced each other tightly. "Thank you for visiting, Meg."

"You are too welcome, Christine," Meg smiled.

She still smiled as Raoul's carriage pulled her away from the chateau, Christine waving from the door with Raoul at her side. She couldn't _wait_ to see Erik when she arrived home.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meg rushed up the stairs to her front door and stood in front of it as she fixed her hair and dress. She took a deep breath, wondering if Erik had been alright staying in that little room, cramped and in the dark.

"He didn't mind the darkness," she guessed. "It was being cramped." She couldn't help but giggle when she thought of how he probably grumbled about it. She jumped and gasped when the door suddenly opened and her mother stood in the doorway.

"Do you realize what time it is?!" Antoinette hissed, dragging Meg in by the wrist and slamming the door behind her.

"Bonjour to you too, mother," Meg muttered.

"What was that?" Antoinette snapped, gripping Meg's arm to look her daughter in the face.

"Nothing, mother," Meg replied quickly, and Antoinette gave a have quick nod, letting the girl's arm go. Meg looked around the living room then back at her mother. "Where is Erik?"

Antoinette narrowed her gaze at her daughter, but Meg ignored her, waiting for an answer.

"In his room," Madame Giry answered, walking toward the kitchen. "He is resting. He was generous enough to do some of the house work for me after the police left."

"Really?" Meg breathed in awe and Antoinette nodded.

"Where did you go, Meg?" her mother asked before the blonde could head down the hall.

"Oh, forgive me, mother, but I had to visit Christine, to see if she was well."

"And is she?"

Meg became solemn, casting her eyes down as she remembered her friend's vexations. "Somewhat. She still fears that Erik will come after her."

"Well, that will be taken care of soon."

Meg's head shot back up to look at her mother with a frown. "What do you mean?"

"Erik has agreed to leave her alone, and I will tell Christine that she has nothing to fear of him anymore."

"Truly?" Meg breathed in awe again, causing Antoinette to narrow her eyes in suspicion at her again. It was too late. It had happened, and no matter how hard she tried, Antoinette knew that she could not undo the thing. "He's agreed to leave her alone? But, he still loves her, doesn't he?"

"If he does, he is taking my advice," Antoinette replied, handing Meg some plates to set the table with for supper. "He is letting her go, even if he does love her. All that should matter to him is that she is happy."

Meg began to set the table as she said, "But mother, it cannot be as easy as that, can it?"

"I never said it was easy, mon petite," her mother replied, sweeping a hand gently over her daughter's cheek, affectionately. "But it must be done."

"_The perfect time to console him_," a voice told Meg, and she took note of it. She hurriedly set the rest of the plates then darted down the hall while her mother wasn't looking.

She ran into her room and left her cloak on her bed then gazed into her vanity mirror to check herself. She quickly ran the brush through her hair and straightened some wrinkles from her dress and hurried to Erik's door. She took a deep, quiet breath before raising her hand to knock.

"I know it's you, Meg," Erik called from inside, making Meg gasp and yank her hand back. She frowned in wonder then reached for the knob and opened the door. She peeked inside to see Erik lying on the bed, reading the book she'd let him borrow.

"How did you know it was me?" she wondered, stepping completely into the room.

"I heard you run down the hall and I suspected you would come here next," Erik replied simply, turning a page in the book.

"Oh," Meg said, folding her hands behind her back, then said nothing else. After a moment of silence, Erik glanced at her as she still stood there.

"Did you want something?" he wondered and Meg shot a wide-eyed gaze at him.

"Oh," she chirped, seemingly uprooted from her place, she started slowly toward him. "Well, actually, I did want to talk to you."

"I'm glad," he smiled, sitting up and leaving the book on the stand next to the bed. Meg looked up at him in surprise.

"You are?" she breathed, a small smile starting to form.

"Yes, because…I wanted to talk to you as well," he said, patting the mattress to signal that she should sit. She burst into a full grin as she flopped herself onto the bed and stared at Erik expectantly.

"I have something important---" they both started. They looked at each other in surprise and Meg gave a nervous laugh.

"You go ahead," she entreated.

"No, ladies first," he insisted.

"Oh, don't start that," Meg groaned. "Just say what it is you have to say. We could go round and round with that."

Erik chuckled a bit then found himself unable to speak for a moment. He had never really spoken to a woman like this before, besides Meg, and even when they spoke to each other he was still nervous, except when they would banter.

"Well," he tried, turning to face her completely. "I wanted to thank you, first of all, for my new surname."

"Oh, you didn't need to," Meg smiled, though she was giddy as a school girl knowing he liked it.

"I had to," he insisted, taking one of her hands in both of his. Meg froze and looked at their hands, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew she was blushing because it felt like her cheeks were on fire.

"It seems to have made me a new man," he continued and Meg met his gaze. "Your mother may have told you I helped her earlier today."

"Sh-She did," Meg sputtered. "Honestly, that does not seem like you, Erik." She was trying to make light of the fact that her hand was still in his.

"You see?" he smiled. "I have a name now. And a good one, at that. Thank you, Meg." He kissed the hand he was still holding and Meg felt close to fainting.

"Y-You're welcome, Erik," she sputtered again as he lowered her hand. "Was there a second of all?"

"Yes," he nodded, lowering her hand, much to Meg's disappointment. "I wanted to tell you, I've made a decision as to what I'm going to do about my permanent living situation."

Meg's eyes suddenly glittered with hope as she thought, "_Will he stay here?! Oh, please, lord, let him say he is going to stay here!_"

"You have?" she asked timidly, masking her excitement.

"Yes," Erik nodded then cast his eyes down. This made Meg worry. "I've decided it would be in everyone's best interest if…if I leave here. I don't think I'd be able to live with myself if you or your mother were hurt because of my presence."

Meg said nothing as she let her eyes fall to her lap in disappointment. She knew it was silly that he should stay, but she wanted him to. Then, she thought it may be best since him being here was only feeding her growing attraction. On the other hand, she'd never felt this way before about anyone, and she wanted it to last, but he had a point. If he stayed, she and her mother were in danger. She was so confused.

"Meg?" Erik called gently, startling her from her thoughts. She looked back at him, her dark eyes as wide as saucers. "Are you alright?"

"Y-Yes," she lied. "I-I'm just…tired I suppose, and…shocked about your decision. Where will you go?"

"I'm not sure yet," he replied. "I thought, perhaps, North America. I could make a brand new start for myself. They say America is the place to start over, don't they?"

Meg nodded solemnly, then looked at her lap again. Erik felt his heart race in panic. What had he done? What had he said that had made her unhappy? He tried to catch her eye and when he finally did, he took her chin into his hand before she could turn away.

"What is it, Meg?" he murmured, concerned. He lowered his hand and Meg only shook her head.

"It's nothing, Erik," she lied. "I'm glad you know what you will do now."

"You don't seem happy," he observed and she only shook her head again. He realized that it must have had something to do with _her_ news and asked, "What is it you wanted to tell me?"

Meg looked at him with wide eyes and Erik knew he had been right. What was it that he had ruined?

"O-Only that…" She trailed off to swallow, her mouth going dry. "Only that, I've enjoyed having you here, with mother and I. I hope I wasn't too much a brat."

"Not at all," he said quickly, and he knew she was lying. "I enjoyed being here, Meg." He took her hand in one of his again. "Truly, I did."

A knock on Erik's open door made them jump and look over to see Antoinette standing in the threshold.

"Supper is ready."

--------------------------------------------------------------------

_After Dinner..._

"Well, Erik, I'm glad you've made a decision on where you'll go," Antoinette said as Meg cleared the table. "When are you planning on leaving?"

"Intent on my leaving so soon, are you, manman?" Erik smirked as they sat at the table still and Meg walked, sulking inwardly, toward the kitchen.

"Of course not," Antoinette replied. "But it would be best for _you_ if you left as soon as possible. The police may come to me again, you know. And they may perform a more extended search."

"Yes, Antoinette, I know," Erik sighed, sitting back in his chair and growing tired of talking about the police being after him.

"Mother?" Meg called, and both looked at her standing with her eyes cast to the floor. "May I retire for the night?"

"Of course, mon petite," Antoinette replied. Meg nodded as Erik stared at her in evaluation. She had been avoiding conversation with him all through dinner, and she had tried so hard to avoid _him_, now. He stared after her as she hurried down the hall, finding he couldn't hold back his curiosity anymore.

"Would you excuse me, Antoinette?" he said, still staring down the hall and standing as Meg slipped into her room.

"Where are you going?" she wondered suspiciously, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Your daughter's room," he replied flatly and Antoinette shot to her feet. Erik saw her do this and placed a hand on her shoulder, turning his face to look at her finally. "She's not telling me something that she desperately wants to say. I can't take not knowing what that is any longer." He firmly pushed on her shoulder to sit her back down in the chair, their eyes never leaving the other's. "Do not make this more difficult."

With that he turned and marched down the hall as Antoinette watched him in astonishment. He stopped at Meg's door and took a deep breath then raised a hand and knocked on her door.

"How is it?" Meg called and Erik heard the distinct sound of a sniffle after her question.

"Erik," he called then added, tactfully, "I have something to ask you."

"Ask me tomorrow," she said with a slight bite in her tone. "I'm too tired to talk to you or anyone."

"Meg, you've been avoiding me all night," he reminded her. "What have I done?"

"Just go away!" she almost screamed. Erik felt his temper boiling and growled quietly as he gripped the knob of her door, only to find it locked.

"Meg," he called in a low voice. "Open the door."

"No!" Meg shot back.

"Open the door!"

"No!"

"Fine!" he snarled and backed away to kick the door in. It swung open swiftly and Erik noticed Antoinette staring at him with wide eyes filled with disbelief from the end of the hall.

"I'll fix it later," he assured her calmly, holding his hand up to subliminally tell her to stay where she was. He turned a firm look inside the room and marched in as Meg backed against her vanity.

"How _dare_ you?!" she gasped. "How dare you break down my door?! I thought you had changed!"

"Old habits and tempers die hard!" Erik retorted. "What have I done to deserve you avoiding me like the plague?!"

"Why do you want to know?!" Meg shot back. "It won't change anything!"

"You don't know that!" he growled, not really knowing what she was referring to but not caring at the moment. "It may!"

"It won't!" Meg insisted. "Just go away! Leave me alone! Go to America where dreams are said to come true! Perhaps you'll find another precious Christine there you can fawn over!"

Silence filled the air around them as Erik's fiery anger was quenched by her icy words. Meg's anger was swiftly blown away to be replaced with guilt and she placed a hand over her mouth, unable to fathom how she had said something so hurtful. Erik nodded solemnly, understanding only that she was upset about his leaving, but nothing else. He felt like a knife had pierced his heart, her words backing it and he could only turn and walk to the door.

"Erik," Meg breathed, her hand falling from her mouth. "Erik, wait!"

He didn't stop, but instead walked into his room and slammed the door shut. Meg still called to him and became unfrozen from her place and ran to his door.

"Erik! Please! I didn't mean it! I'm sorry!" she cried, pounding on his door and beginning to sob. "I'm sorry! Please forgive me! I didn't mean to say it! Erik, please!" She still sobbed as she sunk down to the floor in defeat.

Antoinette watched from her stance at the end of the hall, and Meg looked up at her, tears streaming down her face.

"Mother," she breathed. "Mother!" She scrambled to her feet and met Madame Giry, taking her hands in her shaking ones. "He will listen to you. Tell him I didn't mean what I said. Tell him I know it was hurtful of me to say it and I'm truly, deeply sorry. Mother, please, tell him!"

Antoinette studied her daughter and shook her head, making Meg frown and quiver with coming sobs.

"Why not?!" she cried in confusion.

"He told me not to interfere with this conversation," Antoinette replied, half heartedly. Meg burst into more sobs as she slumped to the floor at her mother's feet.

In truth, Antoinette didn't want this infatuation they had both formed for each other to go on any longer. Her daughter would only end up hurt and Erik would most end up rejected again. She saw their future together: Erik would become overly possessive and Meg would wish more freedom. They would both end up hurting each other.

Antoinette knelt down and gathered her daughter into her arms, rocking her gently as Meg frantically pulled at her mother's arm and sobbed.

"I was going to tell him," Meg began through sobs. "I was going to tell him that I care for him. That I wanted him to stay. But he told me that he was leaving, and when he asked me what it was I wanted to tell him, I couldn't find it in my heart to tell him. I didn't mean to say that about Christine, I didn't. Please, mother, tell him I'm sorry!"

"Hush, mon amour," Antoinette crooned, patting Meg's head gently. "Perhaps, after the two of you rest, you will have a civil discussion tomorrow morning?"

Meg sniffled but nodded in agreement and stood to mope down the hall and into her room.

"_I only wish to protect you, Meg_," Antoinette told herself silently. "_You will see this in good time_."

**A/N:** ah, the drama. i hope none of you think Madame Giry is being so horrible right now. I was reading it over and i was like "Man, i kinda made her a bitch." but it's a mother's instinct to protect her child from injury, physical, mental or emotional, right? (like im a mother...lol!) anyways, reviews please?


	4. Starting a Journey

**A/N:** and _finally_ we have the next chappie ^.^

* * *

_**Chapter 4: Starting a Journey**_

The next morning, Erik pulled on a cloak and patted his breast pocket that had some money from Antoinette to buy his ticket for the boat leaving for North America. He glanced at the stand and noticed the book Meg had let him borrow still sitting on it. He stepped toward it and picked up the book, remembering everything that had been said the night before. It had hurt him, and though she had apologized, his stubborn character wouldn't let him tell her he forgave her, which he did. He realized people said things they didn't mean in the heat of the moment, even if he'd not yet experienced letting it slip out of his lips.

Antoinette opened the door to his room, bringing him from his thoughts. He looked at her over his shoulder then held the book up, saying, "I suppose I should give this back to your daughter."

"I'll do it, if you want me to," she offered, walking toward him and holding a hand out to take the book. Erik turned but didn't hand the book to her.

"No, thank you," he said. "I'll do it. It gives me a reason to talk to her. I could say good bye then."

"She thinks you don't _want_ to talk to her," Antoinette warned him as he headed for the door.

"It's alright," he assured her, stepping into the hall and knocking on her door, gently.

"Come in," Meg called from within, obviously thinking it was her mother. Erik gently pushed the door open to reveal Meg sitting on her bed in a clean, pale pink dress. She looked to the door and upon seeing Erik she stood quickly and straightened herself out. He had to admit, she looked rather pretty with her blonde locks partially tied in a pink ribbon to reveal the features of her face better, her bangs that hung delicately above her eyes more defined.

"Erik," she said greeted, pulling her hands behind her back and casting her eyes down. "I didn't think you would even want to _see_ me after last night."

"Yes," Erik replied, awkwardly. "I came in to give you your book back." He held it toward her and she looked at it with wide eyes.

"Oh," she breathed. "Yes, thank---" She stopped short of reaching for the book and stepping toward him, having a second thought. "Did you finish it?"

Erik frowned in wonder then replied, "Not yet."

"I see," she nodded, pulling her hand back. "Then…_you_ keep it. I've read it once before. It's quite good. You should finish it."

"Oh," Erik nodded back. "You're sure?"

Meg nodded with a small smile.

"Thank you," he said and tucked the book under his arm. Meg wrung her hands in front of her, her heart racing. He was leaving, and there was a good chance she would never see him again. She _had_ to try to apologize again.

"Erik?" she tried as he still stood in the doorway and he only looked at her as she stepped toward him. "I wanted to apologize again for my behavior and my words last night."

"Meg---"

"I didn't mean what I said," Meg continued desperately. "I was upset that you were leaving and I handled it horribly. If you can find it in your heart to forgive me…" She trailed off when she realized she was standing right in front of him and looked up into his eyes.

"_So close..._" she thought. Erik smiled and took her chin gently between his thumb and middle finger.

"I forgive you, Meg," he murmured. "My stubbornness hasn't dispersed with the new name you've given me yet."

Meg giggled, unable to help it and Erik turned his head when he felt a gentle hand tap his shoulder.

"You should get going, Erik," Antoinette whispered and he nodded as she headed down the hall again and he turned back to Meg who had cast her eyes down again as he lowered his hand.

"Well," he sighed. "I suppose I'm leaving now."

Meg nodded in agreement, but didn't look at him. Erik nodded as well and without another word he turned down the hall. Meg looked up in disbelief and panic then hurried after him.

"Erik," she called and he stopped to turn to her.

"Yes?" he wondered. Meg wrung her hands a moment then rushed toward him and threw her arms around his neck.

"Good luck," she whispered and Erik hesitantly slid his arms around her, ignoring his book which fell to the floor with a thud.

"Thank you, petit cavlier," he whispered back and Meg realized that had become his nickname for her. She felt content to stay in that moment but he pulled away and picked up his book. "Take care of yourself, and your mother."

"I will," Meg smiled with a small nod. Unable to help herself she quickly placed a kiss on his unmasked cheek, making him stare at her in shock. He suddenly realized why she was so upset that he was leaving, and he couldn't believe it.

"Meg…" he breathed and she only shook her head, knowing he had figured it out. "I didn't--- Why didn't you---?" He suddenly became irritated, more with himself for not seeing it sooner. "Why didn't you tell me before?!"

Meg stared at him in shock and said, "I couldn't. You had already told me you were leaving!"

"You must have felt the way you did before that!" Erik assumed.

"Yes, but I wasn't sure how to tell you, or even if I _should_ have!" Meg shot back. "I suppose it's a good thing I didn't. It wouldn't have affected your decision on whether or not to leave."

"You don't know that!"

"Erik?" Antoinette called from the doorway and the two turned to see a carriage in the street to take him to the docks. "You should hurry."

Erik turned back to Meg as if looking for her approval.

"Don't look at _me_!" she said, playfully shoving him to the door. "Go! It's all better this way. You said so yourself."

Erik was so confused as she shoved her to the door. She didn't sound angry or hurt. He supposed she had gotten all of that out last night. But he couldn't understand how she was shoving him to the door, telling him to leave when she obviously didn't want him to.

Antoinette bid her good byes as Meg giggled, still pushing him along until he was out the door. He turned to face wide eyes at the two Girys and Meg only grinned and waved.

"Promise you'll write to m-_us_?" Meg smiled and Erik glanced between the carriage and the two women in the doorway. All he could do was nod and he turned to the carriage. Something was wrong. He couldn't bring himself to step into the carriage. He felt as if he were forgetting something. Something very important, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He looked back at Meg who was smiling and waving, but had tears welling in her eyes and he knew exactly what the something was.

"Meg," he grinned and hurried back up the steps to stand in front of her as Antoinette eyed him suspiciously. He gripped her hand as Meg stared at him in confusion. "Come with me."

"What?!" both Giry women exclaimed.

"I know, it's rather odd," he admitted, not looking away from Meg. "But I think you should come with me."

"Erik---"

"Wait just a moment," Antoinette cut in, drawing their attentions. "I'm her mother. I am certainly _not_ letting her go with you, Erik."

"With all due respect, Madame Giry," Erik said firmly. "This is _Meg's_ decision. I am asking _her_, not you."

"You may have frightened me in the past with your antics, Monsieur Phantom," Antoinette retorted. "But when it comes to my daughter, here and now, I am _not _afraid of you andyou will _not_ take her from---"

"Yes," Meg suddenly said, snapping her mother's and Erik's attention to her. She had been staring at Erik the whole time who had been giving Antoinette the most confident look she'd ever seen, a look _she'd_ wanted to give her mother in the past.

"Meg Giry!" Antoinette gasped. "Don't you dare---!"

"Oh, mother, I'm not a child anymore!" Meg snapped, looking at her. "I want to go and see the world! Perhaps I'll improve my dancing skills!" She turned back to Erik who had a smirk of wonder on his face. "Yes, Monsieur _Deveraux_. I'll go with you to North America."

"Magnifique," he whispered, kissing her hand. "I'll hold the carriage. You go get packed."

Meg giggled and ran off to do as he said as Antoinette glanced around, flabbergasted.

"Now, wait just one minute, Erik," she finally said, firmly as he stood at the carriage. "You'll not take my daughter from me. I'll not let you do to her what you did to---"

"This is completely different, Antoinette," Erik reminded her. "Meg _wants_ to come with me. I'm not forcing her. I _asked_."

"Erik," Antoinette called in a warning tone. "No good will come of the two of you together."

"You worry too much," Erik smiled, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I'll take care of her, I promise."

"That's not what I mean, Erik!" she insisted as Erik dashed to the front door, suddenly feeling light on his feet.

"Meg! Hurry!"

"I'm coming!" Meg called back, and Antoinette persisted.

"You promised me, Erik," she reminded him. "You promised you would leave my daughter alone!"

"And today I make a new promise," Erik replied, a hand on the woman's shoulder. "I promise I'll not let any harm come to her, even by my own hand." He turned to see Meg coming back with a large travel case.

"Only one bag?" he frowned in wonder and Meg nodded as she stepped out of the door.

"Only _one_?" Antoinette echoed as Meg walked past her and down the steps. She shook her head and hurried after Meg. "Wait! No! You're not going!"

"We'll need a bit more money, petit cavlier," Erik suddenly realized, almost completely ignoring Antoinette.

"I have some I've been saving," Meg grinned, putting her bag in the carriage and Erik patted her head.

"Aren't you resourceful?" he smiled.

"She's not going anywhere!" Antoinette shouted, snapping the couple's attention to her.

"Mother," Meg sighed stepping in front of her. "Where will I go in Paris? The Opera Populaire is in ruins. If I go with Erik, I'll see the world, and _you_ need not worry about how I'm faring." She pulled Erik toward her and hugged his arm. "I have Erik to take care of me."

Antoinette glanced between them. She wanted so much to protect her daughter from the coming storm she was predicting, but Meg was fighting her tooth and nail. She suddenly remembered how ambitious she herself had been when she wanted to be a ballerina. Her father objecting and her fighting to defy him. She supposed this was her father's revenge.

"_She'll have to learn this from experience, I suppose_," Antoinette thought with a sigh of defeat then told Meg, "You'll write, won't you?"

Meg grinned and threw her arms around her mother and said, "Of course, mother! As soon as we get there."

Antoinette didn't want to let her go but Meg pulled away to get into the carriage with Erik. She hung her head out the window and waved wildly as the carriage pulled away and down the street. Antoinette sighed again and turned into the house, and once she closed the door she sobbed into her hands. Her daughter was gone.

* * *

Meg sighed with a smile and sat back in her seat across from Erik then asked him, "Why did you want me to come?"

"Does it matter?" he retorted, leaning toward her. "What matters is that you came."

"I would only like to know what made you ask me," Meg smiled, sitting back again. She was so excited, she couldn't sit still.

"I'm not sure, exactly," Erik admitted. "I just saw you there and wanted you to come with me." He quickly stood to sit on her side of the carriage and smile at her. "I'm very glad you came."

Meg grinned and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him fiercely as he chuckled. She gently pushed away from him to look him in the eyes.

"I should probably buy the tickets when we reach the docks," she suggested and Erik's eyes shifted nervously.

"Ah, yes, about that," he said, shifting in his seat and clearing his throat. "I was thinking it's much too dangerous for me on a passenger ship. Someone is bound to spot me and tell the captain, and the captain will turn me in to the police…"

"What are you saying?" Meg asked cautiously when he trailed off. He wasn't making eye contact with her and it made her a bit nervous. What did he have planned?

"Well…" he continued. "Instead of a passenger ship, we could save our money and stow away on a _cargo_ ship headed for the Americas. It may be uncomfortable and we'll have to be careful not to get caught, but no one would suspect us being on a cargo ship."

Meg stared at him, her wide brown eyes blank as she blinked a few times, making Erik nervous. She suddenly burst into a grin and hugged him again.

"How exciting!" she breathed then looked into his eyes again. "Stowing away to North America! My first adventure truly _is_ an adventure!"

Erik couldn't help but chuckle at her enthusiasm. He had expected her to object immensely. He cleared his throat and became serious.

"You must do exactly as I tell you, alright, Meg?" he said firmly, looking her in the eyes as well. "Follow my lead so we're not caught, understood?"

"Yes, Erik," Meg smiled with a nod. "Exactly as you say."

"Good," Erik nodded and wrapped his arms around her to pull her closer as she still hung her arms around his neck.

"Erik?" she tried and he made a soft noise to ask 'What?' "How will you know which ship is leaving for the Americas?"

"Leave that to me, petit cavlier," he replied, patting her head gently as she laid her head on his chest. "I know exactly how to get that information."

Meg shot her head to look him in the eyes, her face filled with terror.

"You won't hurt anyone, will you?!" she breathed in fright and Erik looked at her with wide eyes. Of course, he shouldn't have been surprised. Of course she thought he would hurt someone, just as he'd hurt so many people before.

"I promise, little one," he murmured, gently stroking her hair, "I'll not hurt a soul."

Meg sighed in relief and placed her head back down on his chest to let him rest his chin on her head. He was surprised with himself. He had always thought he would be awkward when a woman got as close as Meg was now, but this didn't feel awkward at all. This felt…natural. It felt right, almost perfect.

"Erik?" Meg called again, but didn't move from her place.

"Yes, Meg?" he replied.

"What shall we call ourselves?" she wondered and Erik frowned in confusion.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"When we reach North America," she explained, "What will we call ourselves? Brother and sister? Cousins?"

"I do not think anyone will believe we are related," Erik chuckled, now knowing what she was asking.

"Then, what shall we be?" she asked again and Erik thought deeply for a moment. There was an easy answer for that, but whether Meg would agree to it or feel comfortable with it, he was unsure. He shifted a bit in his seat and Meg let one of her hands slide to his chest, making him freeze.

"Perhaps---?" he choked then cleared his throat. "Perhaps we could pass ourselves as…newlyweds on our…honeymoon?"

As he suspected, he felt Meg stiffen, her hand on his chest pulled away and she lifted her head to look at him to see if he was serious.

"N-Newlyweds?" she echoed with wide-eyes. She couldn't decide whether to panic or be giddy. Pretending to be newlyweds…with _Erik_ was going a bit far, even if she was attracted to him. But she supposed there was no other way.

"If you're not comfortable with that---"

"No," Meg cut in, making Erik stare at her with wide eyes. "I-It's alright. We could be…" She swallowed. "…newlyweds."

Erik smiled and stroked her hair again as he said, "You're sure?"

"Absolutely," Meg nodded with a nervous smile. "I'm sure. You'll be able to protect me better that way, right?"

He smiled wider and nodded. Unable to help herself she snuggled against his chest with a smile of her own.

"It would be my honor to be Meg…Deveraux," she whispered and Erik chuckled.

"The honor is mine," he murmured. "When we reach the docks, I want you to stay in the carriage until I find a ship that we can stow away on, alright?"

"Alright, _dear_," Meg giggled and Erik nudged her playfully making her giggle again. "I'll stay here, I promise."

* * *

Antoinette stepped up to the chateau at noon and rapped on the door quickly. She had decided to pay a visit to Christine instead of write her a letter. She needed something to remind her of Meg, as she missed her daughter already. One hour in that house by herself was more than she could handle. Meg's constant chattering had always given her peace, but too much quiet was driving it to chaos. She didn't know what to do with herself.

The door opened and she jumped from her thoughts to see the servant in the doorway.

"Madame," he nodded respectfully. "May I help you?"

"Yes," Antoinette nodded quickly. "Is Christine Daaé here?"

"She is," the servant replied. "May I ask who is calling for her?"

"Antoinette Giry," she replied. The servant nodded and moved from the doorway to let her in.

"Wait here, please?" he requested, closing the door behind her. "She is in the library. I shall see if she is busy."

Antoinette nodded and the servant headed toward the library as she looked around the chateau from where she stood. A huge staircase led toward a wall with a huge empty frame on it, and at the top of the staircase it went on to lead to either side, which Antoinette assumed were more rooms.

"Madame Giry!" Christine called from where the servant had disappeared. Antoinette turned to her with a smile as the young woman ran toward her with open arms. Christine hugged Antoinette, grinning and pulled away to look at the older woman. Christine's grin fell when she saw the sorrow in Antoinette's eyes that she was trying to hide.

"What's happened?" she asked, concerned. Antoinette shook her head weakly, casting her eyes down so as not to reveal tears that were beginning to well up. "Madame Giry, what is it?"

Antoinette took a shaky breath then looked at Christine, whose heart started racing in panic.

"I came to tell you that you need not worry about your Angel of Music returning," she replied quickly. Christine stared at her in shock and looked around to see if anyone, namely Raoul, was around. She stepped closer to Antoinette.

"Let us go into the parlor," she whispered and Madame Giry nodded. Christine held Antoinette's arm as she led her through the chateau and into the parlor where there was a fire built in the fireplace and two cushioned chairs close to it. Antoinette sat in one and Christine sat herself in the other, her eyes wide and expectant at her ballet teacher.

"You've seen my Angel, Madame Giry?" Christine wondered, breathlessly and Antoinette nodded. "Was he…upset?"

"Of course, child," Antoinette replied. "But he knows you are happy with your viscount and will leave you in peace with him. He's gone far from here now."

"Then why do you look so unhappy, Madame?" Christine wondered, leaning toward Antoinette and setting a hand on one of the older woman's. Antoinette sighed again and patted Christine's hand, staring at it in her lap.

"What matters is that _you_ are free, Christine," she replied. "You need not worry about _my_ troubles."

"Is it Meg?" Christine wondered, still concerned. "Is she well?"

Antoinette couldn't take it any longer. She gave a sharp sob but quickly covered it with her hand and shook her head.

"It _is_ Meg," Christine realized. "You would not be as distraught as this if it were not. What's happened? Tell me, Madame, please!"

Antoinette looked up at Christine's worried face, her eyes filled with tears and told her everything.

* * *

**A/N:** ok, i know Madame Giry is stronger than that, but i mean, come on, her daughter just left. That's heart breaking! yay, Meg and Erik made up and are going away together! why do i always find that necessary for my Phantom fanfics? LOL anywho, reviews, please?


End file.
